Bad Company
by Mystical Jellybeans
Summary: It's been several months since Sam quit the hunting business, and everything has been going rather smoothly so far. When a small slip-up leads him to have to start dealing with his old life, however, this peace may quickly come to an end.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** As per usual, I don't own Supernatural. The title for the story comes from the song Bad Company by Bad Company.

Let me know if you guys want me to continue this story or not!

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"Sam?" A woman called as she peeked into the dimly lit room.

The voice startled Sam out of his thoughts and he glanced up, a soft, almost bittersweet smile forming on his face, though he tried to keep most of the 'bitter' to himself. As much as he'd always been one to share, this was his problem, not hers. "Hey, honey." He greeted her.

"What are you looking at?" She asked, taking a seat beside him and glancing at what he had in his hands. Pictures, pictures she had never seen before. That certainly sparked her curiosity.

Noticing what she was looking at, Sam shifted uncomfortably. There was no hiding it anymore, he couldn't lie to her if he wanted to. She'd seen them now, and even if he somehow managed to convincingly cover this up, she would look into it, and she might even find out more than he intended her to. It was time, time for him to start coming clean with her. "Look… I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, okay, Rebecca? It's just… Things are complicated." He started, wincing as he heard what his own words sounded like. It was a pathetic excuse for an apology, and he knew that very well.

"Yeah. Of course. Aren't they always?" She retorted in a tone Sam had a hard time deciphering. It sounded as though she was trying to be understanding, but he supposed she was assuming the worst. Perhaps the worst was too much to hope for.

Sam glanced down, his thumb brushing over the photographs. He had his digital copies, which he'd always insisted with Dean were a hundred times better than these paper-printed ones, but somehow, he'd grown more attached to the physical ones. Perhaps it was exactly because they reminded him of Dean. A quickly glance up from the pictures revealed that Rebecca was still waiting for him to speak, and he cleared his throat awkwardly, his eyes returning to the pictures, taking in the scenes. The first one was from a fishing trip Dean had somehow managed to talk him into going back in their first year back together. They'd hated every minute of it, and yet as he relived the moment, the two of them posing for a picture in front of the lake, the camera propped up on Baby's - no, the Impala's - hood, he couldn't help but think back to it fondly. It'd been a terrible, great trip. He supposed, as he thought back to it, that it'd gotten Dean what he wanted, though Sam had been too close to the situation to see it clearly back then - they'd started to reconnect, to become closer again.

"Sam?" Rebecca asked, a concerned tone in her voice.

Sam smiled slightly, shaking himself out of his memories. She was concerned, not mad. He did love that girl. "I'm sorry, it's just… I guess I got a little caught up on the memory. Um… This is my brother, Dean. We used to be really close, but now… Hell, I don't even know where he is now. We just… We wanted different things."

"Brother? You have a brother?" Rebecca asked, wide eyes staring up at Sam and sending a wave of guilt washing down him. He should have told her about Dean, but if he was perfectly honest with himself, he'd have to admit that he didn't want to think about his brother himself. "Sam, you've met my entire family. We've spent Christmas and Thanksgiving with them! If you have a brother, I want to meet him."

"Becca, he um… He moves around a lot. I don't know where he is now, and his phone is probably out of service by now. He's got a um… A thing with bills. We're really not in touch at all anymore. I'm sorry." She really didn't get it, did she? Sam couldn't blame her. His life was strange, and he wasn't even truly explaining it to her, he was circling around the issue, trying to get off with half-assed lies and excuses that he knew would only be a Band-Aid. If they did work out, if they did stay together, he'd need to tell her everything about himself - well, as much as he could without mentioning hunting. The cat couldn't stay in the bag forever.

Rebecca hesitated for a moment, then she shook her head vehemently. "No. No, Sam Winchester, you don't get to drop this bomb on me then just say 'but we don't talk anymore, so don't worry about it'! He's the only family you've got, or the only family I know you've got, and I want to know what I'm getting myself into. Call him, call the last number of his you have. If it's out of service, then I'll just… Live with it. But if it's not and he answers, then you will arrange a dinner or something. If you want to just cut him off your life after that, then fine, go ahead. But I will meet him."

For a moment, Sam considered fighting back, telling her that Dean was his family and she had nothing to do with it. He could almost hear his brother's voice in his head, guiding him down the path that kept him most distant from her, most distant from whatever he was trying to avoid. And then it hit him. Would seeing Dean again be really so terrible? Maybe they could talk, work out a way for them to at least talk to each other but live their own lives, became damn it, he missed Dean.

Sam nodded. As soon as Rebecca was out of hearing range, he laughed. What a ridiculous idea, that he and Dean could find a way to be friends and not be on the road together. They'd fight, Dean would end up dragging Sam back into the family business if Sam himself didn't do it first. It just wouldn't work. But he'd call Dean anyway, because let's face it, after such a long time, after all the calls Sam didn't answer, after all the messages that went unheard, after all the messages Sam himself left telling Dean to stop calling in increasingly less polite ways, why the hell would Dean pick up?

His finger hovered over Dean's number for several seconds before finally tapping the screen. His hand was shaking as he brought it to his ear.

It rang once.

It rang twice.

It didn't ring three times.

Long seconds of suffocating silence followed, until finally… "Sam?"

He'd answered.

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"Oh, um... Hi, Dean." It was all Sam could do not to fall into a mute panic at that moment. Why had Dean answered? He wasn't supposed to answer, that was just how things worked. He dodged his big brother for such a long time, Dean became pissed enough to give him the silent treatment. That was how it'd always been.

The reply didn't take long to come, and as he heard it, Sam couldn't help the small grin that formed on his lips. "Sammy? You alright? Are you hurt? I'm in Alabama, but I can make it there in a few hours." Dean hurriedly said, the concern in his voice as bare as ever.

"No, Dean, I'm fine. I just... Look, man, I'm sorry. I'm not saying we should - " Sam never got to finish his mini-speech.

"I'm just gonna stop you right there, Sam. You wanted a normal life, and that's fine. It's friggin' great, actually! I'm glad that one of us gets to have that. So you don't have anything to apologize for, alright? You were right, calling you, it was just dragging you back to hunting, and I... I should've just let you go." There was a long pause during which Sam desperately fished for something he could say to his brother. Before he could come up with anything, however, Dean continued. "Dude, you're not hunting again, are you?"

"What? No, no, Dean! I quit. For real." He replied before he could even give himself time to think about it. "The reason I called... You're not gonna like it, man, and if it's too much to ask after everything, then fine, but please at least consider it before turning it down. My girlfriend... She wants to meet you."

"Your… Girlfriend?" Sam couldn't see his brother, but he could hear the surprised and amused smile in Dean's face - he'd known him long enough for that. An eye roll ensued, but even Sam had to admit that he really didn't have the best luck in the relationship department. "Sam, I…" He was going to say that he didn't have time for that, or that they should keep their distance from each other lest Sam get dragged back into hunting, Sam was sure of that. "I'm working a case right now, just a quick salt and burn. I can be there in two days, three tops."

He'd accepted. Dean was coming. _Oh, crap_, Dean was coming. Dean was coming and Rebecca knew nothing about his hunting life. This wasn't going to be easy to manage, there'd be all kinds of questions about his past, and if Dean answered something wrong, she'd know that what little he'd told her was a lie. Maybe he could get Dean to keep quiet, Rebecca didn't know him well enough to find that to be strange… Who was he kidding? There was no way to get his brother to shut up.

"Yeah, uh, that's great, Dean. Thanks." He answered, all too aware of the fact that his voice sounded less than enthusiastic.

Dean noticed that, too. "Geez, Sammy, can't you be a little less happy about this?"

Running a hand over his head in an exasperated gesture, Sam let out a low humorless chuckle. "I'm sorry, Dean, it's just... You know what? It's nothing." Bringing it up with Dean at moment wouldn't do them any good. Sure, they weren't fighting... Yet. The fight was there, it was just waiting for the right spark to explode, and Sam didn't plan on being the one responsible for that spark.

"Yeah, sure, nothing." Dean retorted, and years upon years of training were the only things that allowed him to hear the sadness in Dean's voice, hidden behind the sarcasm and snark. He wanted to tell Dean that it had nothing to do with him, that he was really quite happy that he'd be seeing his big brother again, but would Dean even believe him? Sam doubted it. He'd just have to convince Dean once he was there. "I've gotta go, Sammy, but I'll be there in a couple of days, alright?"

A small smile formed on Sam's face again - _he was going to see Dean again_ \- and he nodded as he answered. "Yeah. Hey, Dean? It was good to hear your voice again." He meant it.

"Don't get all mushy on me. No chick-flick moments, remember?" Dean replied, and Sam could almost hear the smile on his voice, that telltale sign that he full-heartedly agreed with whatever 'mushy' thing had just been said, but he would never admit it. "I'll see you soon."

"Seeya." And with that, they hung up.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **And here it is, the second chapter! Thank you for all the follows and favorites and for the lovely review! It's always great to know people are enjoying the story.

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It'd been two days since Sam's phone call to his brother, and he was starting to climb up the walls with nervousness. Dean had texted him a few hours before letting him know that he'd _"ganked that son of a bitch"_ and was on his way, which meant that Dean could be there any minute. Any minute now, he'd be seeing his brother for the first time in months. Any minute now he'd be opening up a door to his past, a door he hadn't expected to open so soon. What would it be like to see Dean once again? Would it be the wonderful reunion he was hoping for? Sam doubted it. And either way, the fact remained that at the end of the day Dean was walking out that door and probably never coming back. Sam almost emwanted/em the reunion to be a complete disaster.

"Honey?" Rebecca called, peeking into the living room, her face betraying an annoyance that her voice concealed perfectly. "Honey, I know you're nervous about seeing your brother again, but he'll be here soon and we still haven't worked out a menu! You've been dodging all my questions about him for the past few days. I'm almost afraid he'll turn out to be a crazy serial killer." She joked, trying to lighten the mood as she saw Sam's puppy-dog eyes peering up at her. "Just tell me what to cook, okay? Anything, I don't care if it's hard to make, or expensive. I just want this night be good for the two of you."

Sam gave her a small chuckle as the image of the face Dean would make if he walked into the house and saw a fancy dinner on the table waiting for him, and his chuckle turned into a thankful smile once he managed to get it under control. "Thanks, Becca, but I really don't think that's going to be a problem. Let's just uh… Let's go with something casual, I don't want to make a big deal out of this. Maybe some burgers? They're his favorite."

A small smile formed on Rebecca's face, and she gave him a small tap on the shoulder. "Okay, we're back in business. Meet me in the kitchen in five, we've got a lot of cooking to do and very little time."

The truth was that Sam was at most a halfway decent cook, and both him and Rebecca knew that, and they both wanted dinner to be perfect, so Sam's help in the kitchen was limited to a few simple tasks assigned to him by Rebecca when she managed to tear her attention from her own job long enough to remember that she had an assistant waiting dutifully nearby, making sure to stay out of the way. In spite of everything, however, dinner was already fairly underway by the time the doorbell rang.

Sam jumped, startled by the sound, adrenaline flooding his body in a manner that reminded him all too much of hunting. Dean had arrived. In a few seconds, he'd be facing his brother again for the first time in a long while. "Honey," Rebecca's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "Will you get the door for me? I can't go say hi right now, but please let your brother know that I'm here!"

All of a sudden, everything started to get too real too fast. Every step that he took seemed like a giant leap forward - exhausting, dangerous, exhilarating. His brother was right there, just a few feet away from him, and all that separated them was a wooden door. Sam had faced enemies most people couldn't even begin to imagine were real, he'd saved the world, he'd endured what had seemed like centuries of torment in the Cage, so why did the thought of seeing Dean again terrify him more than any of those things?

His hand rested on the doorknob, and his eye peeked into the peephole. It was Dean. It was Dean, it was Dean, it was Dean. There was no escaping that now, they were going to see each other again. Whatever happened happened. And holy shit, it was Dean. Sam hadn't realized just how much he missed his brother until that second.

"Dean!" He called, a bright smile illuminating his face as he threw the door open, ready to embrace his brother but holding back because he knew how Dean felt about what he called "chick-flick moments".

However, Dean seemed to also be caught up in the moment, for instead of demanding that his brother keep a respectful distance from him to avoid overly mushy moments, Dean strode right in and embraced his brother, clearly just as happy to see Sam as Sam was to see him. "Heya, Sammy." He said as they separated, a grin still on his face.

Not sure what to say or how to behave, Sam searched desperately for social pleasantries that he could use to buy himself some time. "So um… Come in! Rebecca is cooking dinner, pop into the kitchen at your own risk." Sam smirked and tried to appear calm and relaxed, while at the same time his whole body was still trying to figure out how he felt about the whole situation. His big brother was standing right in front of him for the first time in what felt like forever, and Sam couldn't help but be elated, but at the same time he knew that Dean came with a baggage, like it or not, and it was a baggage he'd tried to leave behind when he quit hunting. "How's the business?" He asked before an uncomfortable silence could set it, being careful to keep his words vague in case Rebecca was listening in from the kitchen.

"No, Sam, we're not talking about that tonight. Tonight is all about you, your girlfriend and… Your apple pie life here." Dean cut in, shaking his head in denial. "What have you been doing these days, anyway? What was it last time? Um… Bartender?"

A small laugh escaped Sam's lips, and he shook his head back at Dean lightly, amazed by his brother's attempt at keeping things lighthearted. He should have known, he should have known that he was worried about nothing, that his brother wasn't really going to hold his leaving against him, at least not for that night, or if he did, that he wasn't going to make it overly obvious. "Waiter/bartender. How do you even remember that?" He asked, grinning at Dean's almost uncomfortable shrug. "I've just been doing some odd jobs. I walked the neighbor's dogs yesterday. Made me feel like a kid trying to earn some money to buy a videogame."

That earned him an almost nostalgic smile from Dean, and Sam wondered if his brother was remembering something from the four short years that he'd had of a normal life before their mother's death. Just as quickly as it'd come, however, the nostalgia was wiped away, replaced by a trademark Dean Winchester smile. "I guess compared to our normal that's not half bad, Sammy."

"Yeah." He agreed with a dry chuckle. "Yeah, I guess you're right." There was more he wanted to say - he wanted so badly to insist that Dean could have a normal life, too, just like he had since the day he chose to walk out the door after that fateful fight with his father - but he held back. He'd just gotten Dean back, he didn't want to push him away.

Silence set in as the two boys struggled to find something to say, not wanting things to get awkward so quickly. They both had a million things they wanted to say, but neither one of them had the courage to test such dangerous waters, being so petrified of the idea of shattering the fragile peace between them that they ended up staring at opposite corners of the room, shifting uncomfortably under the heavy silence that was almost palpable in the air.

"So uhm… You've got yourself a girl. That's… That's awesome, Sammy. Wasn't expecting you to try your luck in the romance department again." Dean blurted out, seeming so relieved to have finally said something that Sam had to bite back a laugh.

"Yeah, yeah. Things with Rebecca have been pretty great. She's really excited to meet you. But Dean, please watch your mouth. No business talk today, alright?" She probably wasn't listening, Sam knew that, but he wasn't taking any chances. Dean would understand what he meant.

A small nod confirmed that, and Sam let his lips curve into a hint of a smile. Maybe that night would end up being the great reunion that he'd fantasized about. Maybe. But what if it was? It was nothing more than that, one night. It didn't change the way he saw his life hunting, and it wouldn't change the way Dean saw quitting the job. Nothing would change that. Sam wouldn't say that sitting there in his living room talking to his brother, awkward as it might be, didn't make him feel a longing to go back to his old life, but as soon as he thought about what he'd be giving up - Rebecca, his new friends, everything he'd worked so hard to build - he knew he couldn't do it. Besides, what had hunting ever gotten him? Just pain and heartache. Dean didn't see it that way, but he did, and he couldn't just ignore it. He'd tried, for so many years he'd tried his best to see in the job the same thing that his brother did, but it wasn't in his blood like it was in Dean's.

A few more awkward minutes of silence passed before Rebecca finally broke it by calling them to the table, a beaming smile on her face as she shook Dean's hand and introduced herself, prattling on about how incredibly happy she was to meet Sam's brother and how she just couldn't wait to hear about their family and childhood. Dean just smiled uncomfortably back, looking at a visibly amused Sam and mouthing "save me" when Rebecca wasn't looking.

"Hey, hey, Becca, let's slow down a bit, okay? You're freaking my brother out." The laugh was audible in Sam's voice, but Rebecca took the hint and shut up, looking almost embarrassed. "She's just… She's been looking forward to this for a while now."

Rebecca sheepishly nodded, a blush creeping on her cheeks. "Yeah, Sam's met my whole family, but until a few days ago I thought he didn't have anyone." She explained, gesturing for the boys to take a seat at the table. "I guess… Maybe it's because Sam never talks about his past. I just want a link to that part of him. I don't know, I just really wanted to meet you."

Sam watched anxiously as his brother offered Rebecca a small smile, hoping that he wasn't about to do or say anything stupid. One little slip of the tongue and everything he'd built there would go crumbling down as easily as Jenga tower. "Well, I don't really know what I can tell you. There's nothing to say, really. Sammy kind of cut ties with the family a while ago." Safe, Sam decided. He was taking a safe approach, trying to keep things vague, make their past seem as uninteresting as possible so that she wouldn't ask about it again. It wouldn't work, Sam knew that because he'd tried it more times than he could count, but maybe it would at least make her let Dean off the hook. The last thing he wanted was for that dinner to turn into an interrogation.

Silence fell upon the room as the three served themselves, Dean's eyes twinkling and a beaming smile he tried to repress forming on his lips as he saw his favorite dish before him. They were all about to dig in when Sam noticed something strange - Dean had frozen in place, his muscles tense, ready to fight or flee, his eyes taking on a look Sam knew meant that he had snapped fully into hunting mode. "Something's wrong." He announced, quickly standing up from his chair and making a beeline to the kitchen.


End file.
